


Not In Kansas Anymore

by Alicethrutheburrows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Best Friends, Castiel also brings the best out in Dean, Castiel is an army brat, Complete, Dean brings out the best in Castiel, Did I mention Sad Ending, Drabble, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, It hurts me too I promise, M/M, Sad Ending, Teen Angst, Their friendship is so sweet it will make your teeth rot, falling in love for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicethrutheburrows/pseuds/Alicethrutheburrows
Summary: Junction City, Kansas 1999. Being an army brat meant moving place to place, only this time was different. This time Castiel had met Dean Winchester, and his life was forever changed.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Not In Kansas Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm sorry to do this to you, this ficlet was written for the angst-angsty week challenge and does not have a happy ending, so why read it? Well, it does have a wonderful sense of nostalgia and I truly loved writing this piece. So welcome down my rabbit hole once again, I'll be there at the end with a tissue waiting for you.

_Hays KS 12 miles. _

_Colorado State Line 172 miles._

* * *

“Castiel, we’re getting closer sweetie.” Naomi said, staring at Castiel’s face in the rearview mirror. “Colorado is going to be great. A fresh start! I know moving early in the school year is hard but this time…”

He really wished his mother would save the _everything-is-going-be-great _moving speech. Having a dad who was a translator for the US Army meant moving from army base to army base every couple years or months sometimes and every time they packed up their station wagon to head to their new home his mother felt the need to give the speech. Staring out at the passing fields of Kansas farmlands, Castiel couldn’t stomach the speech this time. It wasn’t just packing boxes, loading the car, burying his head in a new book and zooming off to his new home this time. No, this time everything was different. This time Castiel had met Dean. Too big leather jacket, co-captain of the cheer team, cool without trying but never cool enough to ignore his kid brother, easy-going perfect smile Dean fucking Winchester.

Always being the new kid was easy, after a dozen or so times bouncing schools Castiel knew the routine like he knew his abc’s. He hardly bothered with afterschool activities or trying to make friends since he never really knew when he might be jumping schools again. Plus, who needed friends when books existed? Junction City High though, with the majority of the students coming from Fort Riley half the student body was considered new kids.

Castiel was able to do his usual nose-always-in-a-book-new-kid, fly-under-everyone’s radar until he was partnered with Dean for the English group project. Dean rummaged Castiel’s bedroom shelves for all its treasures the first time Dean came over to Cas’ house to work on the project. Arguing over who would win in a fight, Batman or Superman, Dean declared “Dude, better call my mom cause I’m so staying the night to marathon John Wayne.” Bonding over their shared love for DC comic heroes and old western movies, the pair were the unlikeliest of friends. Like a light switch, shy and reserved Castiel flipped into a quick-witted, silver-tongue sass master in Dean’s presence while cool, collected and charming Dean turned into comic book lore loving, full-blown 80’s slasher movies fanatic Dean. They were like peanut butter and jelly, good separate but better together. 

The project became a gentle nudge which snowballed into a shove down the path of friendship. Soon, the cheesy young adult stories Castiel had drowned himself in became his real-life experiences: late-night back road cruising in Dean’s ’67 black beauty of an Impala, group movie nights at Charlie Bradbury’s watching the Star Wars trilogy, Mario-Kart games sessions kicking both Dean’s and Dean’s little brother Sam’s asses, half-priced burgers at the Roadhouse and Led Zeppelin air guitar jams in Dean’s bedroom.

Junior year became about watching sports activities (mostly to watch Dean cheer), being dragged to school dances and after parties, having a group of friends for the first time, studying for the SATs/ACTs, and praying neither one of their parents wised up about their late night sneaking out shenanigans. Summer swept in with change on its coattail. Their conversations grew longer, deeper. Sleepovers were spent sharing one bed with the amount of space slowly evaporating each time. Weekends were spent at the lake fishing (even though Castiel didn’t enjoy it for its meditative qualities quite like Dean), swimming and enjoying s’mores over an open bonfire. Weekdays included popping in to have lunch with Dean at Singer’s Salvage before heading down to work his six-hour shift at the Gas N’ Sip. Money made was money spent on cheap beer obtained through Dean’s secret supplier, even though Castiel knew it was Ash from the Roadhouse, and summer action movies at the local movie theater devouring over buttered popcorn.

Somewhere between summer nights’ shoulder touches started to linger, glances became blatant stares covered up by awkward coughs, and every brush of hands a new wildfire of confusing emotions. Those emotional flames were fanned to new heights at Lisa’s end of summer bash. The bash being more a raging high school party disaster than a well thought-out get together. Rounding the corner with two beers in hand, Castiel never wanted to punch some in the face so bad while at the same time wanting to be that person as he did Lisa with her tongue shoved down Dean’s throat.

A frown spread across his while stomach sunk ten-thousand feet. He sipped his beer; it tasted sour. He sipped the other beer, sour again. Sipping mindlessly between the beers trying to pinpoint the feeling plaguing him. Staring no doubt was rude but Castiel couldn’t peel his eyes from the train wreck in front of him; Lisa using too much tongue like a dog lapping at its water bowl and gripping Dean so tight he couldn’t escape. His brain booted up just long enough to supply him with one singular possibility that hit him like a well followed through baseball bat swing—he was jealous. Jealous Lisa was kissing Dean, not the reverse and the realization of that fact left him with more questions than answers then he could process through his beer-tipsy riddled mind at the moment. Rather than even begin to decipher his feelings, he decided he’d file it away for reexamination later.

Later snuck up on Castiel like a thief in the night when Dean had dragged him out for some late-night stargazing to celebrate the first day of senior year. Stars never sparkled brighter than they did in a middle-of-nowhere Kansas sky, but how could he find beauty in the stars when Dean was sitting on the hood of Baby right next to him? Aspirations and dreams were the topics of the night’s discussion. Dean volleyed back and forth about wanting to go to college or opening his own garage. Castiel admitted he simply wanted to plant his roots somewhere, to have the same four walls and windows. “You’re allowed to have bigger dreams than four windows and four walls Cas.” Dean said, arching an eyebrow before returning his gaze towards the stars. “You’re smart man, crazy smart. You and Sammy both too smart for your own good.” A beat passed before Dean felt the need to fill the silence. “You know,” Dean started, waiting for Castiel to meet his eyes before continuing. “You like the stars, what if you became an astrologist or a meteorologist.” Dean shifted closer; excitement written all over his features as he explained why Castiel would make the perfect weatherman.

_Oh. Oh no. _Watching Dean gush about him in a blue suit in front of a camera talking about the weather, Castiel finally understood why authors spent all their time writing stories about characters dancing around another. Here he was dancing around the obvious. He liked Dean, liked him in **_I want to pull you in by your shirt and kiss you to shut you the hell up _**way and it should terrify him yet finally having clarity on his feelings gave him peace instead. Castiel watched the stars twinkle while he soaked up Dean’s words like a sponge resolving to bury this enlightening knowledge for, he couldn’t risk endangering the best friendship he had ever made.

The pesky thing about feelings though is they don’t like to stay buried. The tragic thing about life is it never turns out the way you expect such as coming home to news about his father being transferred to Colorado on a new assignment after the fourth day of school. Dean pulled him into a tight hug making promises that they would stay in touch and “You can’t get rid of me that easily Cas,” after telling him about the move. Saturday was spent loading the car and here they were on Sunday driving to their new home.

The tear tracks had long dried from his face with each passing mile away from Junction City. Closing his eyes, Castiel rested his face against the car window. Come Monday Dean would find a letter in his locker; a letter Castiel could recite word for word for it had taken him at least fifty crumpled up notebook paper attempts before he decided being blunt was his best choice. If you looked up coward in the dictionary you would see a picture of Castiel Shurley; he knew it was cowardly to tell Dean in a way in which he saved himself the pain of rejection or seeing Dean’s face crumple in disgust or worst of all ruining their friendship completely. Selfish didn’t begin to describe how he was feeling, the words of his letter playing on repeat in his head.

_<strike>Dear Dean</strike>_

_ Dean,_

_ I was never going to say this. But I couldn’t leave bearing this weight. The only way I know how to put it in a way that I’m sure you won’t misunderstand is bluntly. I like you. And before you start thinking NO SHIT SHERLOCK like I’m sure you’re doing what I mean is I like like you, idiot. In a romantic way. If you’re wondering for how long, I just figured it out myself. Mostly when we were stargazing last week, I didn’t even bother watching the stars for I was too caught up watching the stars in your eyes. Dean, you’ll always be my best friend but you’re also the first person I’ve ever liked, and I know it’s selfish of me to tell you this way. I promise to write to you after we get settled. I can only hope this knowledge hasn’t destroyed our friendship and you’ll write me back. I miss you already. _

_ Cas _

“Castiel sweetie, you’ll strain your neck if you keep staring out the window that way,” His mother’s voice snapping him from his memory lane haze. When had he turned around to stare out the back glass? How could he face forward when the best part of himself was behind him? Sighing, Colorado meant nothing to him when he left his whole heart in Kansas.

**Author's Note:**

> Here, take a tissue. Leave me a comment or some kudos they help feed the muse. Hugs, thank you so much for reading. This story holds a special place in my heart.


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